Realization
by SpeedBump
Summary: I hope I spelled that right. Bobby finally realizes why Alex is pissed at him, he tries to straighten it out. B/A One Shot.


Wooooooooooo...another fanfiction!! won't someone PLEASE hire me so I don't have time to write these silly things?...about characters I don't own??...that's a clever one. :) we'll try and keep this one short, kids...

He hadn't realized. Bobby Goren sat at his desk staring at his paperwork. That was the bottom line. He was an overtly perceptive person, both as a detective, and as a man, and yet he had failed to consider the emotions of the one nearest him. He was an odd mix between the deeply insightful and the stupidly blind. He knew this about himself.

He had thought only of getting back his badge, of getting back to his desk, of giving up the maddening idleness of unemployment, of turning his deductive and analytical abilities outward, into productive motion, instead of eating away at his own psyche inside his own skull. He had thought, after having the riot act read to him, being placed on suspension, the best thing would be to avoid tarring Eames with the same brush. Five years ago, she might have bought it. She would have understood his attempt to preserve her record. Even when he purposely blocked her out, a little piece of his mind knew she would probably take it like a slap in the face. But he had a job to do, so he blocked it out, he would figure it out later. But he hadn't realized.

He hadn't even realized when she fled from the jail cell, hurt shadowing her features. It wasn't until the interrogation room when her voice had wavered, "if it wasn't me come through that door, you'd be dead." Then part of him had understood. There was still his pride, and he refused to surrender, refused to lend credibility to her feelings. But now, with the squad room empty, the building quiet, her desk vacant, the understanding grew larger. She was in love with him. And he had a decision to make.

Alex Eames sighed and laid down on her couch, staring at her flickering TV. Her wet hair flipped annoyingly across her face. The tv and lights flickered dangerously before coming back on. She groaned and listened to the rain and wind pounding on her windows behind her. It was a very bad night out. Her phone on the coffee table buzzed. She sighed. There was only one maddening, idiotic, asshole that would be calling her right now.

"What." It was not a question. She heard wind blowing across the mouthpiece on the other end.

"Eames-." His big warm voice broke through the rough background noises. He paused, one of his irritating habits. "-Alex. Alex. I need to talk to you. Can you buzz me up?" She sighed and snapped her phone closed. She let him wait thirty seconds. Just long enough to send his ridiculous mind wandering down different paths of interpretation, guessing at her intentions. She imagined him swaying outside her door, glancing around, rubbing his neck, staring at her call box. She sighed and buzzed him in, smoothed her hair back from her face, leaned against the wall. Looking down she realized she was in a thin t-shirt and boxers. Cursing, she grabbed her robe from the back of the couch and belted it securely around her. She took a deep breath and smoothed her hair down once again. His knock broke sharply through her living room and she jumped, staring at the door. She could hear him shifting around in the doorway. He knocked again. She bit her lip before moving to answer the door.

"what do you want?" she glared up at him. He was looking down, not meeting her eyes, shifting his weight in that irritating way he had. His hands were deep in the pockets of his trenchcoat. His tie was loosened and his hair was plastered to his forehead. She watched the rain drops trickle down his temple, past his ear, before dropping off the hinge of his jaw as he worked out an answer.

"I-, I just need to talk to you." He moved his head in that infuriating manner he had. "can I come in? Please?" She knew what he was doing. That's how he worked his way into perps. She felt her face close over.

"I'm not a goddam perp, Bobby. I'm your partner, and I know what the fuck you're doing." She moved to slam the door, Bobby caught her wrist. She froze.

"That's not-" He swallowed. "that's not what I'm doing." She bit her lip. "Alex." Her robe slipped underneath his hand and his fingers made contact with her skin. Involuntarily her eyes met his. She stepped back, and he followed her.

Once inside he slid off his coat and hung it on the back of the door. He rumpled up his hair and rubbed the water from his brow. Alex stood apart from him, completely at a loss, her arms crossed tightly across her chest, biting her lip.

"So what is it." Her voice was forced, harsh. Bobby looked at her.

"I want to apologize." Alex looked down.

"for what." Bobby rubbed at his neck.

"you see, I didn't think about it. I thought I was doing the best thing by not involving you." he started pacing, gesturing with his large hands "I thought-" He paused, looked directly at Alex, she stared at the carpet. "you see-" He took a step closer to her "you're nobody's waterboy." he stopped, a little unsure. "I didn't involve you because I was wallowing in my self-pity. I can be a little self-obsessed, I don't know if you've noticed." Alex was biting her lip. He didn't know if that was good or bad. He held his breath. There were subtle tear marks tracking down her cheeks. He took another step. "I didn't consider your feelings," He touched her arm, forced her to look up at him, tears pooling in her eyes. "Alex, I'm sorry." she stared at him a moment longer. Then her shoulders sagged and she nodded. Bobby sighed and dipped his head to see her face. "yeah?" His voice was soft, tender, relieved.

Alex bit her lip and nodded through her tears. He paused before awkwardly reaching out towards her and enveloped her in a hug. They didn't do hugs. She could smell his aftershave and his detergent and she stopped thinking. Her arms unfolded and clinched around his waist and her eyes closed against the solidness beneath his work shirt. They swayed for a long moment, and then she felt his cheek on her hair by her temple. Without thinking, she moved back a little, raised up just enough that their cheeks were touching, and their mouths were in proximity, his breath blew against her ear and his stubble pricked her skin.

To someone like Bobby it was probably blatant, but she couldn't help herself, she'd been working so hard for so long, ignoring her feelings, hiding her impulses, desperate not to let her inner emotions show to the world's most perceptive detective. It all came rushing to the fore, begging to be acted on. She hung, on that brief eternity, circled in his embrace, pressed against his skin, lips parted, before Bobby slowly, awkwardly, tilted his chin down and she raised her mouth to meet his.

With that, the fire erupted. Bobby's large hands were on her neck, holding her to him, then inside her robe, on her waist, under her shirt, against her bare skin, moving her gently backwards. Her own hands fumbled with his shirt buttons, stripped off his tie, and jerked his shirttails from his belt. She was beyond caring about their future, their job, protocol, everything. Her last coherent thought was that if one night ruined it all, it couldn't be worse than forty years on the force, not having what was right in front of her. They stumbled into the bedroom.

The next morning Alex woke to Bobby sitting up on his side of the bed. She shifted to face him as quietly as she could, but no doubt he knew he was being watched. Even if it was behind her eyelashes. He turned, caught her gazing at him over his shoulder. The side of his mouth quirked and he got up, moved to the bathroom, glanced at her once more over his shoulder before shutting the door. She lay there for a long moment, staring at the door in the half-light, listening to her shower running. Sighing, she swung her legs out of bed and stood up. She pulled on a sports bra and her t-shirt from last night. She could smell Bobby's cologne on it. She selected some new underwear and a pair of running shorts from her closet, yanking them on viciously. She leaned for a moment against the cool wood of her closet door, trying to push back the fear, the tension, all thoughts except for moving to her kitchen to make coffee. The shower stopped running and her eyes opened. She slipped through her bedroom door and padded into her kitchen. She mechanically set about making coffee, staring out her kitchen window. She heard him come to the doorway, and her hands shook, carrying the coffee pitcher filled with water. Her heart was beating out of her chest and she knew he saw. He saw her bite her lip, saw the water tilt violently in the pitcher, saw the numbness in her fingers as she fumbled with the lid to the maker. She might as well be screaming it at him. There was a step behind her as she was pouring the water shakily into the reservoir at the back of the machine. Bobby's big hand came around her shoulder, grasped hers on the handle of the pitcher, and slowly lowered it to the counter. Her throat constricted.

"Alex." Bobby's voice was by her ear. His other arm circled her waist, pulled her back against him snug. "Alex, it's okay. I know." He muttered into her hair. The breath burst from her lungs finally, and she felt the tremors shudder down her entire body. She leaned against his chest, her whisper was like a sob.

"so afraid- so afraid you'd notice." His other hand left hers, crossed against her waist, cradling her skin his thumb making small circles against the hollow of her hip bones, under her shirt and above the line of her shorts. He smiled.

"you know, even a blind pig finds a few acorns." He paused. "but weather the pig deserves the acorns, that's something else." His voice was low, raspy Her heart squeezed and one of his hands detached from her stomach to travel down her arm, delicately encircling her wrist. He lifted it and dropped a kiss on her palm. She sighed.

"Bobby-" He shook his head.

"you know me Alex. I wouldn't have come here if I-" He hesitated. "I don't do things that way." He finished. She sighed, relief settling over her. She slowly turned in his embrace. His hair was wet and he hadn't shaved. He was wearing his wifebeater and she could see the heavy solidness of his muscles through it (A/N: I think we'll have a little AU moment where Goren is in his previous gorgeous shape...the beer belly never happened here, k? :)). His eyes were big, searching, but part of his mouth was smiling, and she felt an answering half-smile settle on her own features.

"So we're really doing this?" She tried not to stare at his mouth. He grinned and leaned into her, pressing her against the counter behind them. She felt a bigger smile bubbling in her throat and he leaned in, his lips and tongue burning against her own, his clean masculine scent overwhelming her senses.

Blah blah blah...moved in together...blah blah blah, Eames gets pregnant, blah blah blah, retired, blah blah blah, happy ever after.:) Happy? :):) anywho, that's all I got. Hooray!


End file.
